


Mr. Dad

by uhmelle



Category: Professional Wrestling, kenny omega - Fandom, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 00:52:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11544021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhmelle/pseuds/uhmelle
Summary: A day with baby.





	Mr. Dad

“You sure you’re gonna be okay?”

“Absolutely, the diaper goes on the head and the shirt goes on the ass part, right?” He smirked at her. She’d only asked about 10 times in the last two hours.

She sighed. “I know I’m being a pain.”

“Good.” He pecked her on the lips and turned her toward the door. “Then go. Have a good time, I love you.”

“Love you, too.” She stood for a minute longer, then finally willed herself out of the door way and he shut it behind her.

He sighed into the empty air and made his way over to the bassinet. Inside, the infant shifted just slightly in her sleep. The still brand new affection rose in his chest and he almost wanted her to wake up, some selfish need to feel her skin and smell her scent and know she was his.

Parker was three months and three days old exactly. He’d cried when she was born and cried when the little corners of her set of their matching lips tipped to the sky for the first time in a toothless grin. What he thought had been love for wrestling or video games or even her mother had been a long farce when she came wailing into the world and it had only grown ever since.

Sleepless nights as she’d fought against a regular schedule were a breeze, so was the way she seemed to hate diaper changes and managed to pee on him a number of times. When he sat with her in his arms, quiet and close, it was worth it.

Forcing his wife out of the door for the first time by herself since the birth was for her own good. The grueling task of making a human had been hers alone for 9 months; the whole ordeal of pushing it out followed. Mix recovering from the trauma and having a wiggling, helpless baby only see you as a milk machine, and Kenny was more than glad to give her as much time as she needed.

She’d also dealt with the last few years of his wrestling career, generally dealt with his personality on a daily basis, and still gave him the light of his life. Not adhering to the garbage stereotype of taking as little responsibility as possible as a dad was the least he could do.

Small grunts started about 10 minutes into his video game. Unless she was wet she rarely woken up crying, and it would take a minute or two before she demanded attention. Still, he shut off the system and came to stop in front where she lay, a hand shoved into her mouth, eyes curious over her surroundings.

“Hey gorgeous,” Kenny said quietly, dipping down to scoop her up and cradle her against his chest.

She adjusted and lay her head against him comfortably. Baby sighs and groans escaped her as he patted her butt a few times, noting her need of a change.

“Just you and me today, mama’s got the day off. We’ll get that diaper changed and-” He looked to where Parker mouthed at his shirt like a starved animal. “And if you keep rooting around like a little piggy you’re not gonna get much from what you find.”

The diaper change came down to a science. He’d been told boys were harder and he didn’t deny that, but nothing compared to his daughter’s primal need to let it all hang out. She fussed and peed herself again, even after he’d powdered her, and he tried faster the next time, finally succeeding.

“Hahaha, it is I who have beaten you little one!” He pulled out his best promo voice and she stared at him looking a little sleepy.

“You’re lucky I have a healthy self esteem,” he told her, kissing her chubby cheek.

Since she was an Omega in-utero he’d become a little obsessed with buying her clothes. Not frilly dresses and cute socks with little animals on them, nothing like that, but his beloved merch. That part of his life gone but certain never forgotten and he made sure of that.

Upon her birth she had a handful of The Elite and Young Bucks onesies, a few of his own, and a few specially made of The Bullet Club. They were her usual garb, mainly because they were easy to change and wash, a little because he felt more than one spark of pride looking at his greatest accomplishment wearing his second greatest.

He held up two in front of her, Bucks and BC, and waved them a bit for good measure. “Alright, which one?”

A second passed and she seemed to consider it, bringing our her little fingers to grasp at them both, but ultimately moving her dual grip to the bright Bucks’ onesie. Kenny dressed her with care, approving of her choice, and carried her to the kitchen where he warmed a bottle for her.

Babies could be boring, that he would admit. He looked forward to the days when she would develop her own little personality, want to run around and play. He wanted, selfishly of course, to get her as enamored in video games and–probably to her mother’s chagrin–wrestling as he was. And he wanted, more than anything, to instill in her the things that made you a good, hard working person, even if she didn’t become Wrestling God(dess) Jr.

Parker made an annoyed face and stopped drinking, signaling she was done with her bottle. Rearranging her in his arms, she burped loud enough to make herself jump and Kenny chuckled. “Wow, Parker May, 10 outta 10. Burp of the year.”

But before he could set her on his shoulder to make sure she was all burped out, the flood gates opened. Her pristine onesie now soaked, his shirt much the same, and she wailed at the sudden expulsion. Puke not being high on Kenny’s list of ‘things I totally love’ but the cries of his daughter being even lower, he cradled her to the dry side of his chest and headed for the bathroom.

Quickly laying her in the baby bath, he stripped off his own soiled top and pulled his hair out of his face to secure it with a hair tie.

“I know, I know, it’s okay darlin’,” he cooed at her over her annoyed cries.

She quieted slowly, Kenny stripping away her onesie and diaper, letting the warm water fill up the tub and roll over her. A handful of exaggerated faces and soft songs later she was grabbing for her toes and giggling loudly when he would put the rag over her eyes in a game of peekaboo.

Soon after, he wrapped her in the adorable baby robe with the parrot head that his mother had gotten her, and dried and dressed her without incident. Thank god. He laid her in the crib, turning on the mobile, until he could get the bathroom back in order.

He sighed again. This was a cake walk, he knew, compared to overly curious toddlers, and school with bullies, smart mouthed pre-teens, and the ultimate awkward the birds and the bees talk. He had been a father not even half a year, and it had been amazing and boring, nerve wracking and smooth sailing all in the same breath. But he was happy, and while not making people jump out of their seats in adoration, his baby audience of one always smiled when he tickled her ears.

He’d replaced his shirt and made a move to throw the onesie in the hamper when he got an idea. He laid it out on the counter and whipped out his phone, taking a picture of the ruined-for-now outfit. A moment later he laughed to himself as he sent the tweet and returned to his little girl.

“Apparently everyone’s a goddamn critic. @MattJackson13 @NickJacksonYB”


End file.
